


The Darkest Evening of the Year

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-17
Updated: 2008-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nobody can stealth their way through dead leaves," Rodney scoffed. "Not even Ronon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkest Evening of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [McSmooch LiveJournal Community](http://community.livejournal.com/mcsmooch/)

The trees shivered in the autumn wind and John turned up his collar, watching the golden leaves drifting. The trees here were tall and graceful, their limbs stretching upward, and rather than sway in the wind, they trembled, and their long ensiform leaves slowly spiraled to the gold-strewn ground. Beyond the golden trees the sky blued into midnight, and directly above John, the first star glimmered. As he watched, he heard scuffling behind him, leaves crackling.

"Need to work on your stealth skills," John said.

"Nobody can stealth their way through dead leaves," Rodney scoffed. "Not even Ronon."

"That a bet? Cause I'd take it."

"Of course you would, and no. You're right; if anyone could, it would be Ronon." He stood next to John. "Or Teyla."

John nodded, hiding a smile. Another gust of wind sent a flurry of gold leaves into a twisting trajectory, corkscrewing around them. Several landed on their shoulders and one caught in John's hair. Rodney smiled at him, all trace of irritation fled, and he gently extracted it, holding the leaf between them in the palm of his hand before blowing it away.

"The moon's rising," he said, and John looked from Rodney's face to where he was pointing. They stood on a slight rise, the last hillock above the steppes which made up much of the continent, the largest on this world. The loamy loesse seemed to glow in the low light of dusk, over which the moon rose swiftly, full and nearly as golden as the leaves.

"A harvest moon," John suggested.

"Autumnal, certainly," Rodney agreed. For a moment they paused, caught in the diastole between actions. John knew they had to finish caching supplies, then fly to the city near the stargate where Teyla and Lorne were completing negotiations to settle a small group of survivors from another planet, one utterly devastated by the Wraith. Ronon and Keller were with the survivors, hoping to save them from the debilitating stress of what they'd suffered. Here, on the edge of the steppes, the _panga_ forest behind them, they hoped to establish a new home for their allies.

"Helluva universe," Rodney said finally, and sighed.

"We do what we can," John said, answering the question Rodney hadn't asked.

"This so isn't what I envisioned myself doing. And yes, I agree, it's important. It's just . . ."

His voice trailed off. Day disappeared into night. The moon rose higher and seemed to shrink in size, turning colder and the color of nickel. The wind picked up, and the leaves rustled as they hurried away.

John jumped when he felt Rodney's hand, warm and heavy, settle on the back of his neck. He exhaled sharply, and then forced himself to relax. For a moment more they remained there on the hill, but they were expected back in the city, and then back in Atlantis, and then to a meeting of department heads. John leaned into Rodney's touch, exhausted at the thought of how much was left to do.

Rodney gently shook him, and at last they turned away from the moon and toward the forest, where the puddlejumper waited. As its hatch lowered, Rodney caught John again, his hand again at John's neck, and this time John expected it, turned into it, turned to Rodney. He put his hand on Rodney's shoulder, watching as his face was revealed to him as the hatch lowered spilling light into the dark woods. He looked as tired as John felt, and just as determined, but his eyes were still bright and his mouth was bracketed by smile lines. "Hey," John said.

"Promises to keep," Rodney whispered, and they leaned forward, John's eyes closing, Rodney's breath warm, and they kissed. Beneath an alien moon on a distant world, beside Ancient technology and beneath ancient trees, they kissed, Rodney's mouth tender on John's, another moment of calm, and then, together, they entered the jumper. Miles to go, John thought as he settled into the pilot's seat, Rodney beside him. So many miles to go.


End file.
